


Grace

by risenfrommyimagination



Category: British Actor RPF, tom holland - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Breaking Up & Making Up, Established Relationship, F/M, Fights, Fluff and Angst, Inspired by Music, Love, Music, Musical References, Reader-Insert, Romance, Sad, Sad and Happy, Sad with a Happy Ending, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-24 05:36:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20700794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risenfrommyimagination/pseuds/risenfrommyimagination
Summary: This is about you and Tom. But you without Tom and you hope he would come back.





	Grace

**Author's Note:**

> This OneShot is inspired by Grace by Lews Capaldi, listen to it if you want.  
Also there is angst and heartbreak, just to warn you beforehand.  
Enjoy reading ♥

The needle of the turntable scratches softly over the record, a soft noise in the loudspeakers while the last song slowly fades out. Your heart aches, still clinging to the lyrics of the last song, that made you almost cry. Like every song you have listened to in the last hours and days.

_I’m not ready to be just another of your mistakes_

Although you were quite aware which song would come next – you know this record by heart – the first line hits you right into your aching heart, pulling all the painful strings in your body. You pull the pillow, you have pressed against your chest, closer, tears welling up in your already puffy, swollen eyes. 

_I can’t seem to drown you out long enough  
I fell victim to the sound of your love_

Warm tears are running down your cheeks. You haven’t stopped crying since he left almost two days ago. “I don’t know what I should do.” His voice echoes in your head. Over and over again. And you still see his soft, fawn eyes looking at you, full of tears. “I don’t know how this is going to work out. If it’s going to work out longer.”  
The last months had been hard for both of you. Work did drown you, with tight deadlines, demanding costumers and yourself feeling lost at your workplace, because everything seemed to be a mess. And he had been abroad, shooting for his new movie, working from the sunrise in the middle of night. This hasn’t been the first time he had been away. It was common routine, but this time, it had been different with you both feeling so drained and exhausted. 

“Take a break.” Words you told him more than once. Words he decided to ignore more than once. Words that could have saved you from this right now. In between of him shooting his new movie, barely being able to talk to you and yourself, falling down a dark hole, being alone in your small London flat, something broke.

_You’re like a song that I ain’t ready to stop  
I got nothing but you on my mind_

The fight started slowly, almost imperceptibly reaching with its deviant fingers after you, pulling you down. It had been a beautiful evening in London, the sun setting over the rooftops, immersing the whole city in a golden shine. You had been sitting on your couch, his back resting against your chest and your fingers running through his soft curls. It had been perfect. Almost. Until you started talking about his shooting. And he mentioned that he probably needed to leave for another four weeks.

_“Again?”_ You are regretting the way your voice cracked, sounding so needy and disappointed at the same time. There was no doubt that this also tipped over the mood.   
_“This is not fair. You know this is my work.”_ He did shift away from you in this moment. Physically and emotional, his back pressed against the other lean of the couch, leaving space between us. A space that later would turn out to be insurmountable. 

_“Yeah and you have all the freedom to do it.”_ You tried to close this space with words, but it didn’t work out. _“But I also miss you. It was hard this time.”_  
But instead of an answer, an _“I miss you too”_ he just shook his head, running his slender fingers through his curls.   
_“I thought I’d come home to you and…”_ He didn’t even finish his sentence, but his eyes glanced at you with this darkness you haven’t seen in them before. Maybe it was good that you didn’t get to hear the end, it could have broken you even more. 

_I'm not ready to be just another of your mistakes  
Don't wanna let the pieces fall out of place_

The lyrics are like thin threads, wrapping so tightly around your heart that they cut in it, leaving it behind bleeding all your soul in your body. Tears are running down your cheeks, as the fight repeats over and over in your head. Better said the one sentence that broke your heart in literally thousand sharp pieces, slowly drilling into your body. 

_“Maybe this was a mistake.”_  
_“What?”_ You remember your voice trembling so hard, that you couldn’t even speak properly.  
_“Believing that all of this wouldn’t turn.”_ He looked at you with empty eyes. _“I thought you’d support me.”_  
_“I do.”_

And you meant it. You still do. But you’ve been on the verge of breaking down under the pressure, too. And you didn’t even know if he noticed or not how hard you tried to keep everything together. You told him a little bit when he was away, not wanting to make him feel guilty for your state.   
_“Doesn’t seem like it.”_ He didn’t believe you. The words did cut deep into your already aching heart and you felt it sinking down in your gut. _“Tom, this…”_  
_“Don’t.”_ His dark, empty eyes still haunt around in your head. _“I can’t do this right now. I don’t know if this makes any sense.”_  
And then he got up. You tried to make him stay, tears running down your face, but it didn’t work. He left. 

_I was only just a breath removed from going to waste  
'Til I found salvation in the form of your_

He didn’t write you. Or showed up like the man in every romantic movie does. His sweater he wore on this day still lays on your small dining table, where he threw it after you started making out pressed against the wall next to the table. When everything was still perfectly ok. 

_Your grace_  
Your grace  
Your grace  
Don't take it away  
Your grace  
Your grace  
Your grace  
Don't take it, take it 

You miss him with every inch of your body. Your already tiny flat feels so empty without him dancing to radio music in the kitchen and not throwing himself on your couch, spilling his arms and legs all over, leaving you with no other choice than to snuggle up to his chest. A desperate sob coaxes from your mouth, your bottom lip is trembling. It hurts so much. Every part of this flat is covered in memories of your relationship. The bed you spend hours in. Awake or asleep. Naked or just wearing his shirt, watching him reading his scripts with this stern, concentrated gaze. You used to lean to him, kiss his soft spot right behind his ear, teasing him a little. And then maybe this would turn into a make-out session, him pressing you down in the sheets, straddling over you, his hip gently grinding against yours. 

_On the verge of almost bleeding you out  
Are we too wounded now to ever come down?_

But this is all in the past now and you didn’t know what to expect now or what was to come. If he would come back or if this was the end of your relationship. It couldn’t be the end, you didn’t want to believe this. There had to be a way to pull this back together or did this finally break you? All of this left you here in your bed, crying, calling in sick at work. 

_Oh, how I long for us to find common ground  
I've got nothing but you on my mind_

You close your eyes, the pillow pressed against your chest and your face buried in it. There is a hint of Tom’s perfume rising into your nose and your heart wrenches. Soft, happy memories are flooding your brain, while your tears are soaking the pillow. 

_“Tom, hi.”_ You can almost feel the exciting tickling through the aching in your body as your eyes locked for the first time in this pub in London, where you met him almost two years ago. Of course you did know who he was, but you never thought that he would fall for you. Or you for him. But something sparked between you in this rainy, really cold night and you remember him slipping a piece of paper with your number on it, your heart beating like hell. 

_I'm not ready to be just another of your mistakes  
Don't wanna let the pieces fall out of place_

It all started so sweet and innocent, without any doubt that it would crash at some point. Date after date followed, mostly somewhere outside of London, in your flat or his house, away from the public. You both spend endless hours of talking, getting to know each other and of course, kissing. You lift your head from the pillow, catching breath, feeling dizzy from all the crying. Also you didn’t eat much since he left. You’ve barely eaten anything. 

_I was only just a breath removed from going to waste_  
'Till I found salvation in the form of your  
Your grace, your grace, your grace  
Don't take it away 

Never kissing him again seemed so far away and yet so close to become reality. And you feared that it already did become true. He’d never give you this precious, adorable smile when looking at you and you could never again appreciate the tiny wrinkles around his eyes you loved so much. His hands would never again wake you up in the morning, softly tracing the curve of your hip, followed by his lips, kissing down between your legs. There wouldn’t be evenings and nights filled with Haz’ and his laughter while playing Mario Kart, you sitting between them, trying to beat them in some kind of way. 

_Your grace, your grace, your grace  
Don't take it, take it_

Tears are running down your face again, trying to wash away the pain. It doesn’t work. Nothing does work. At this moment everything seems so pointless. Which sounds so stupid to say, but it just feels like it. You promised your heart to not get this broken again and now here you are in a place you never thought you’d be again. Not with Tom. You’ve been more than just sure about him. 

_Way too close to colour your cover_  
All dressed up but kept undercover  
Way too close to colour your cover  
All dressed up but kept undercover 

The doorbell rings. Your heart stops.   
And it rings again. Did someone want to come by?

Slowly, you get up. Your whole body aching with every step you take. Maybe one of your girlfriends showed up, because you didn’t message anyone since Tom left. You wanted to be alone, because you weren’t and still are not able to deal with the reality. You press the button next to your door to unlock the entrance door and open your apartment door.   
But there is already someone standing in your doormat and your heart drops right into your stomach. It’s Tom and he looks – just to be completely honest – as worse as you feel right now. 

“Hey.” His lips curl into a crooked, but still soft smile and you feel this familiar tickling in between all the pain. “H…hey.” And your mind goes blank. 

_Your grace, your grace, your grace  
Don't take it awaaaaaay_

Your eyes wander over his face, the tousled, uncombed hair, the dark circles under his eyes, down to the blue shirt with the small, finely drawn pattern right over his heart, he was wearing. It was a gift from you. And he was wearing it now.

_I'm not ready to be just another of your mistakes_  
Don't wanna let the pieces fall out of place  
I was only just a breath removed from going to waste  
'Till I found salvation in the form of your 

“Can I…come in?”  
You nod and step aside to let him in. He was probably here to pick up the rest of his stuff. His sweater, his toothbrush, and the few pairs of socks he was storing in your drawer. 

_Your grace, your grace, your grace_  
Your grace, your grace, your grace  
Don't take it away 

There is still a spark in your body that hopes he would not leave. That he was here to fix this mess you both made. It wasn’t even a mess. Just a stupid fight, caused by stressed nerves and a misunderstanding. 

_Your grace, your grace, your grace_  
Your grace, your grace  
Don't take it away 

“I…” Tom turns to you, his fingers running through as they always do when he is talking or nervous. Or both. His hairstylist judges him for this so badly. “I think we…have to talk.”  
And you nod again, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. 

“I know there is a lot to talk about, but…” Suddenly Tom steps to you, his hands almost grasping your waist. “I need to apologize first.”  
The spark in your chest flares up and you look at him. “You don’t…”

“Oh I do.” He looks down on your hands, carefully brushing his fingers over your arm. “I overreacted. And I didn’t see you.” Firmly, he grabs your hand, pulling you a little bit closer. “I blamed you for missing me, not noticing how worse you were.”

His words push the right buttons in your brain, welling up tears in your eyes. “I am sorry, too.”

“You don’t have to be.” Tom shakes his head, his hand hesitantly hovering over your cheek, then his fingertips grace fondly over your skin. “I fucked this up.”  
“You didn’t.” Your voice is trembling as hard as a few days back. “You…”  
“I missed you.” His fingertips wander over your cheek, cooling down your irritated skin. “Every day.”  
He bites his lip, his fawn eyes meeting yours again, causing a shiver to run down your spine. “I regret everything I said to you.”   
Something inside of you starts tingling, your heartbeat picking up some speed.  
“Tom…”  
“Hmhmh, no.” Gently, his thumb brushes over the left corner of your mouth. “I love so much and…” His voice cracks a little. “And you are not one of the mistakes I did or would ever regret if you were one.”

A single tears runs down your cheek, he wipes it away. “He.”  
“I love you too.”  
“I know.” His lips softly peck a kiss on your forehead, leaving a tickling spot behind. Your lips curl into a smile – the first one in a few days – and you carefully grab his hand. “Are you staying?”

Tom nods, his chestnut curls falling into his face. “I never should have left in the first place.”


End file.
